Hey Sailor
by crore
Summary: Inspired by the scene in Mission Impossible in which the Avengers are in the IMF. A certain red head has disrupted a mission and all Barton wanted to do was help. One-Shot. May continue to be multi-chaptered with enough positive reviews etc.


"Tony" Pausing, "Tony!" Urgently.

"Yes, yes?" Muffled fumbling, muffled swearing, "What. What?"

"The package is still on the plane." Hands on hips, deep breaths in and out. "Where the hell is The Captain?"

"I have no eyes on Steve." You can hear hands typing quickly.

"The package?!" Pacing around the dark room, hand rubbing forehead.

"Jeez Barton, The Captain won't miss his plane." Pause. "The plane is moving."

"Are you kidding me?" Muttered Clint, "Anyone have eyes on Captain Rogers? Iron Man, check your surroundings"

In a Grassy meadow next to the hangar, Tony's head popped from the tall grass, a piece of camouflage covering his body, before ducking back down.

"Iron what do you see."

"Nothing, too fast."

Clint groaned, "I could really use Hulk right now."

"Hey guys."

"Bruce! You're supposed to be in Spain." Said Tony "Met anyone up yet or still-"

"Hulk, can you get eyes on Rogers?"

"Please," Wind whistling, "Don't call me that."

"But, you have amazing anger issues Brucie dear."

"The package is moving!" Clint panicked, "Where the hell is the Captain?"

"I have eyes on Steve." Tony said, "Hot damn."

"Thanks Tony." Fast breathing and roaring engines.

"Steve can you get on the plane." Clint said, relief spreading through is voice.

A short sigh was heard at the end of the line, "Yes." Thinking, "Not the normal way."

"Normal is boring." Tony replied, "Do you need any doors?"

"Not yet."

"What way exactly?" Bruce asked.

"Afraid no one but Iron Man is going to appreciate what I'm going to do next."

"Steve, get on that plane."

"Lost sight of our Patriot, aircraft had just turned the corner." Tony muffled, "The plane is coming onto the track."

"Bruce, can you get eyes on the Captain?"

"There aren't any cameras on the outside of the plane." Bruce replied.

" Wait… there's a figure descending down to the plane from a black parachute." Tony said urgently. "Uh... appears to be female. Red hair, shoulder length. Armed."

"I'm on the plane." Steve said

"Captain, do you see the woman?" Clint said, hands on desk.

"No." Steve gasped, grunting.

The plane turned once again.

"Oh my god." Tony said, "I suddenly feel very very hot right now."

"What? What is it?" Clint asked.

"Oh no." Bruce said, "Please tell me the woman didn't take her shirt off or anything."

Wind whistled through Steve's comm. "I'm on the plane."

"You're on the plane?" Bruce asked, "Tony hasn't even opened any door yet, I can see."

"Yeah, where the hell are you anyway Banner?" Tony piped.

"Never mind," Clint said, "Rogers, are you in the plane?"

"I'm on the plane!"

"Do you have eyes on the package?"

"I'm not in the plane damn it, I'm on the plane."

"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN." Clint yelled into his comm.

"He means he's dangling from the side of the plane." Tony sighed. "I have eyes on the red lady, she's on the other side." He said quickly. "Could really use a hawkeye right now."

"What is she doing?" Clint asked.

Tony shifted, grabbing binoculars from his side, "She looks like she's placing some device to open the plane door."

"Captain, you have to ensure that the package doesn't leave the plane without you."

"Guys?" Bruce's voice came over through the comms, "The plane is about to take off."

"Red has just slipped into the plane, and the door is closing behind her."

The big aircraft picked up rapidly picked up speed, the roaring of the engines echoed loudly over the speakers. "Steve are you inside the aircraft?" Clint shouted.

"Working on it." He grunted, "Stark, open the door!"

"Oh, um," Tony's fingers flew over the keyboard. "Give me a second."

"It's taking off." Bruce said.

"Door, Tony!" Steve roared over the engines.

"GIVE ME A SECOND." He yelled back. "Okay! Doors open."

"Tony…" Bruce said, "Wrong door."

And just when he finished Steve yelled, "Not that door! The other door."

The plane was flying and Steve was hanging from the outside of the plane.

"Alright, alright…" Tony's brows furrowed in concentration, "That door, is that the damn door you want?"

Beside Steve, the door flew open, and he swung himself into the plane. "Thanks Tony, but a little earlier would be better."

"Sure thing dear." Tony muttered.

Red flew around the corner, Steve grasped onto the package – bombs. "I may have just seen the red lady." He whispered.

"You know what?" Clint said, "I'm coming over. You guys are hopeless without me."

"What?" Tony replied, "Why the hell are you doing that?"

"Because," Clint hissed, "We didn't expect company and the Captain might need backup."

"Where are you?" Bruce asked.

Clint grabbed his bow, heading towards the door, "Close. Steve, do not leave the plane without the package. Do not let the red lady obtain it."

"Yes sir."

"You guys do know," Tony said, "I have been trained for field work. I can fight and stuff."

Bruce chucked over the lines, "Sure you can."

"No really." Said Tony, "People can be smart and be kickass you know."

Clint snorted, "The last time you tried to do a solo mission, you ended up making bombs out of Christmas decor and needed Rhodey as backup."

"Rhodey wanted to help!" Tony paused, "Besides, my armor kind of died."

"Guys," Steve said, "I have eyes on red lady."

"Where are you Barton?" Brue asked.

"Eight hundred meters to the Hangar." Clint replied, "Steve, is the package intact?"

"Yes." Steve said.

"Tony, open the door." Clint ordered.

"Ahh…, which door?" Tony said.

"No it's okay, I've got it." Bruce smoothly said.

"Captain, exit the plane." Clint said.

Steve hesitated through the comms, "The red lady is still onboard."

"I've got it." Clint said.

The back door of the plane opened, and Steve slid down the door with the package, a parachute opening behind him and he soared down to where Tony lay in the grass.

"The Captain has landed." Tony said in the comms, "Leaving the area."

* * *

Engine roaring, the wind cold against his face, Clint rode the motorcycle, looking up at the plane above him.

"Come on… come on…" He muttered, impatiently waiting for the red lady to drop out of the plane.

"Hey there sailor."

The bike dangerously skidded on the dusty road, and Clint braked.

He turned, the silhouette of a woman, gun in hand, hair smoothly waving in the delicate wind.

Clint climbed off his bike, a firm grip on a knife hidden in his front pocket. "Who are you?"

Her head cocked to the right curiously, "Nobody."

"I really don't believe that."

"I didn't say you had to."

Clint paused, "Why were you on the plane?"

"Favor for a friend."

Clint took steps forward, "Why a favor?"

She frowned, "Guess I'll never know."

"You're getting paid?"

"Something like that."

"I could help you, you know."

"I doubt anyone but me can help myself right now."

"I could pull you out."

"I highly doubt that." She answered.

Clint's frustration grew. "You're going to get killed if you don't do this job."

"Good observation." She praised.

"Who are you?" He asked again.

"Oh you don't need to know."

Clint could hear a bang, and then there was darkness.

Until he tried to open his eyes and-

"Hey sailor."

 _Oh._


End file.
